


Seeing With The Heart

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-16
Updated: 2006-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam is curious about what Dean sees in him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Seeing With the Heart

 

SEEING WITH THE HEART  
By Shorts  
  
"Sam? What in the hell are you doing?" Dean stood in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
Sam wobbled and would have fallen if Dean hadn't moved quickly and caught him. "Damn it, Dean! When are you going to learn to knock?"   
  
"Not gonna happen," said Dean, still gripping Sam by the shoulders and looking at him. "Waiting for an invitation could be deadly, for either one of us. Now, are you going to explain what I just saw, or are you going to let my imagination fill in the blanks?"  
  
"There's nothing to explain," said Sam, pulling out of Dean's hold and grabbing a towel to drape around his hips.  
  
"Oh, I think there is," insisted Dean, blocking Sam's escape route out of the bathroom. He didn't even try to hide the grin as he saw a faint blush color his brother's cheeks.  
  
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" asked Sam, obviously hoping like hell Dean would do just that.  
  
"Uh uh, not a chance," chuckled Dean, leaning against the door jamb and waiting to hear how Sam was going to talk his way out of this one. "Anything I could possibly come up with to explain what I just saw, can't be anywhere as good as the truth."  
  
"Oh, god," groaned Sam, seriously considering letting Dean fill in his own explanation, then quickly dismissing that idea. Dean's imagination could really run wild sometimes, a lesson well learned from the past. He resigned himself to the humiliation he already felt and sat down on the closed toilet seat. The same toilet seat which he had been standing on just a few moments ago, buck naked and trying to get a backside view of himself in the mirror over the sink. How was he going to explain this to Dean without it sounding exactly like it was? This was going to kill him.  
  
With his grin firmly in place, Dean waited.  
  
"I was just curious," said Sam, his voice barely loud enough for Dean to hear him.  
  
"You were curious," repeated Dean when Sam fell silent.  
  
Sam half shrugged and half nodded at the same time.  
  
"Curious about what?" pressed Dean, when it seemed Sam wasn't going to expand on it.  
  
"About what it is that you see," said Sam, eyes firmly fixed on the floor.  
  
Pursing his lips, Dean thought about that for a moment. "A little bit more information, here bro."  
  
Bracing himself, Sam looked up. "I've noticed you're always watching my back . . ."  
  
"That's what we do, Sam," said Dean. "Kinda goes with the territory of hunting evil."  
  
". . . side," finished Sam.  
  
"Oh." Dean's smile vanished. "Noticed that, did you?"  
  
"Kinda hard to miss," said Sam.  
  
"What can I say?" Dean's face lit back up. "It's one of your best assets."  
  
A look clearly showing that wasn't going to fly, crossed Sam's face.  
  
"Well, what do you expect, Sam?" asked Dean, his defenses crashing into place. "We practically live in each others' pocket twenty-four/seven, not to mention that particular element to our relationship. Nor does it help when you prance around the hotel room in your birthday suit."  
  
Sam knew Dean would take this the wrong way. "That's not what I'm getting at . . . wait a minute, I don't prance."   
  
"In my mind, you do," smirked Dean.  
  
Letting out a sigh, Sam stood and pushed his way out of the bathroom. "Just forget it." Which was what he had wanted Dean to do in the first place.  
  
"Now, hang on a sec," said Dean, following him. "This must have been bothering you enough for you to go so far as to actually stand on a toilet to look at yourself."   
  
The humor in his voice was not lost on Sam, who started to pull out a t-shirt and boxers from their bag.   
  
Dean moved up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing himself tight. He felt Sam tense against him. "Look, what can I say? You have the cutest little dimple right here." He patted and squeezed Sam's left butt cheek.  
  
"Yeah, fine. Whatever," said Sam, standing perfectly still in Dean's embrace. "I simply wanted to know what it is you see that makes you . . . you know. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I knew I'd never get a straight answer out of you, that's why I never asked."  
  
"You want the real reason why I react the way I do?" sighed Dean, resting his forehead on Sam's shoulder. Normally, he would just drop the subject, but evidently Sam was serious about this.  
  
"Only if you're going to tell me the truth."  
  
"When have I ever lied?" asked Dean, honestly offended.  
  
Sam opened his mouth to point out they both lie on a pretty regular basis in this job.  
  
"To you," clarified Dean, releasing his hold and stepping back.  
  
"Never," conceded Sam, turning to face him.  
  
"I might tease you, but when it's important, I've never lied to you." Dean dropped into the nearby chair and leaned forward, staring at the floor between his feet.  
  
"No, you just avoid the whole conversation," pointed out Sam, sitting on the bed and facing him.  
  
With his gaze locked firmly on the carpet, Dean was silent for a few minutes.  
  
Sam figured this conversation was going to end just like others they've had, with Dean clamming up, and he shifted to stand when Dean started to speak.  
  
"It's not what I see when I look at you," Dean hesitated and swallowed. "It's how I feel when I do."  
  
Sam's eyes widened in surprise. This was not what he had expected to hear.  
  
Dean looked up, all of the earlier humor gone from his eyes. Only for Sam would he ever expose himself and his feelings, and then only if cornered.  
  
"So it doesn't have anything to do with how I look from the back?" asked Sam, keeping the small smile that wanted to escape firmly in check. He certainly did not want to screw this moment up with Dean.  
  
"Well, I must admit, the view is nice," said Dean, obviously uncomfortable and wanting to make light of his confession. "But honestly, it's just having you close. No big deal."  
  
Sam studied Dean, mouth pursed in thought.  
  
"What?" demanded Dean, forcing himself to hold Sam's gaze. He hated it when Sam did that, it felt like he was looking straight into his soul.  
  
"I think that's the closest you've ever come to admitting you love me," said Sam, his voice soft with wonder.  
  
"You're my brother, for chris sakes," forced out Dean, his voice getting a little louder. "If anyone should know how I feel, you should."  
  
"You're right," agreed Sam. "It goes both ways, you know."  
  
Dean nodded, his expression still guarded.   
  
Wanting to erase the wary look on Dean's face, Sam stood up. The towel around his hips slipped loose and he tossed it over the other chair. "It's getting late. If we want to get an early start in the morning, we should call it a night."  
  
It was Dean's turn to be caught by surprise. Sam was not known to let anything of importance just go like that, and he had to admit, they just had a pretty important moment there.  
  
Aware that Dean's eyes were on him, Sam walked over to the door and made sure it was locked, then crossed the room to turn out the bathroom light. He was self conscious of how he moved, because Dean's description of him prancing nettled him more than he would ever admit. By the time he returned to the bed, Dean was already under the covers and lifting them up slightly in invitation. Without a word, he slipped into bed and Dean shifted to spoon behind him.  
  
"A cute dimple, huh?" grinned Sam, squirming back against Dean.  
  
"Don't let it go to your head," said Dean, patting Sam on the stomach.   
  
Sam chuckled and settled down to sleep.  
  
The next morning, Sam woke to find Dean practically tip toeing in the buff around the room. Obviously he was trying to be quiet so as not to wake him as he gathered clothes and headed for a shower. "Hey Dean."  
  
Dean jumped and turned to face Sam. "What?"  
  
"You've got the same dimple." Sam grinned, enjoying the faint blush on Dean's face before he disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
  
  
_*warning incest*_


End file.
